Page 59

“The other girls set me up. They tricked me into a plan that was supposed to free all of us, but they never came back for me like they promised. They ran. Left me behind with the warriors.” I bite my lip so hard I can feel my teeth pressing through my flesh.

“When the warriors woke and realized the others were gone, they weren’t pleased.

They said it was my fault. They said they would rape me too. And then… kill me.”

Netharu’el reaches for my face, his hand warm against the cold of my skin. I swat it away. Shudder. No one can touch me. Not when I remember the reason why.

“But I didn’t accept that.” My voice is quiet but firm. “I didn’t let them lay a single finger on me.”

“How?”

“How?” I shrug as much as I can beneath his weight, my gaze locking with his for the first time in what feels like forever. “I killed them, of course.”

He blinks, scraping his horns against the wall, his face twisted in shock. His mouth opens, but no words come.

“First one, then the other. With their own fiery daggers. Then I made my way back to Parae, covered in blood and dirt. And from that moment on, everyone saw me as something else. A witch. Something unnatural. Because I was not supposed to survive; they left me to die.”

“They saw you as a witch? But did no one question why the others?—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” My jaw clenches. “Why did you leave Akares? And when?”

It takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, to stop looking at me with that sorrowful gaze. With pity. As if he knows how it feels. As if he, too, has come close to being violated, murdered, and forced to take his first lives at nine sun cycles old.

“Two sun cycles ago,” he finally says. “I realized what he was doing was wrong.”

“You weren’t dismissed?”

A low laugh rumbles in his chest, but his eyes remain shadowed, as if the laughter is just a performance. “You don’t get dismissed, my dear. You get executed.”

“But you could just leave? Walk away, just like that?”

The smirk vanishes, sinking back into his pitch-dark skin. “No.”

“Then how…?”

“I deserted. I’ve been on the run ever since. The Resistance took me in and shielded me from him. But as you already know, they demand that I prove myself.”

“By training me.”

He nods. “Something that turned out to be far more enjoyable than I’d initially anticipated.”

“Oh?” I can’t stop the small smile tugging at my lips. He returns it, intense and intoxicating. I blink, forcing myself to focus. This isn’t the time. “Do you know where he takes his captives?”

“You mean your sister?”

“Yes. I heard he only takes women. You must have some idea if you worked for him, right?”

His gaze drifts to the wall, unreadable. “That’s correct.”

“So? Where does he take them?”

“You don’t think he trusted us with that kind of knowledge, do you?”

“Someone must know,” I insist.

“Perhaps.”

“I doubt he’s personally escorting them. He has subordinates for that.”

“That’s true.”

“Then you should?—”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you.” His eyes find mine again. “I wasn’t one of those assigned to transport the captives.”

“I didn’t expect you to be, but?—”

“Which means I don’t know where they’re taken.”

“But they’re alive?”

“I can’t say.”

“What do you think?” I demand. “Tell me the truth!”

Outside the tree’s hollow, rain pounds down in an unrelenting torrent.

A fierce storm drowns out the jungle’s usual chorus.

The distant hum of insects, the rustling of leaves, and the calls of unseen creatures are all swallowed by the deafening roar of water—a deluge hammering the earth.

We could be here for hours if we wait for it to pass.

Netharu’el presses a fist against the wood, his jaw set. “From what I’ve heard, that seems to be the case.”

“He must need them for something. That must be it.”

“Possibly.”

“But what for?”

“I don’t know, my dear.”

“Money? He already has more than he could ever spend.”

“Oh, does he?”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t act so surprised.” Shifting beneath him, I struggle to free my hands, irritation prickling beneath my skin. “Do you know what he’s doing with the prisoners?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Really?”

“I was never told.”

I stare at the tree’s inner walls, smooth but streaked with dirt and riddled with tiny tunnels. Beneath the grime, the wood has a golden hue; its surface is alive with writhing larvae, bright as warning signs, some no larger than a finger.

“Then you’ve killed others,” I say.

“I have.”

“How many?”

“But so have you,” he counters. “Or so I’ve heard. Were there more than the two in the cave?”

“Maybe.” Tilting my head, I watch him. “Is that why you’re so skilled at swordplay?”

“Among other things.”

I take a deep breath, forcing oxygen into my lungs. The air is thick, dense as reeds, stiflingly warm. Our breaths mingle in the cramped space. It’s time to change the subject, to steer us back to safer ground. The bird.

“So, does the bush troupial still live?”

Netharu’el blinks, his brow creasing just beneath his horns. “How do you know it was a bush troupial?”

Oh. Fantastic. Wonderful.

What in the fires am I supposed to say now?